Thirty-Seven: Motivations, Revealed

Author's Note: Chat learns why Alya has been behaving out of character.

Special note: I'm probably not alone in having life upended by the outbreak of the COVID-19 virus; these past ten days especially have been focused on ensuring the people I support professionally – not to mention my friends and family - are in a good place to deal with the dynamically changing situation we are facing. That greatly reduced the time available for writing, resulted in a rather truncated, but important, chapter for today.

To be sure, this is a tough situation for all of us; in whatever small way I can bring some sense of normalcy to your day through my writing, I will continue to update my stories on my normal schedule as best as I can. That may mean shorter chapters than normal – or not, but either way, I promise to continue as we work our way through this crisis. -ep

"I've done everything you asked," Alya told the figure within the elevator. "Now, please—"

"Not everything," a female voice said from inside the carriage.

I squinted, but even my superior feline vision was unable to pierce the strategically placed lamps inside the carriage that were backlighting whoever Alya was talking to. And yet, the voice seemed awfully familiar. Torn between needing to know and wanting to protect my friend, I stayed put and strained all of my enhanced senses to their limit in an attempt to hear every word.

"Please," Alya pleaded. "I can't keep going like this. They're my friends!"

There was a pause, and then a rather bloodcurdling scream from Alya; I nearly came out from under the tarp as I watched her fall to her knees, clutching at her wrist. Her sleeve had fallen away, exposing an unusual looking bracelet I'd never noticed before. The way it was glowing white, though, told me it was not of the normal jewelry variety.

Slowly, the light faded as did Alya's choked cries. And, to my surprise, so did the bracelet. I blinked multiple times to confirm it had cloaked itself against the skin of my friend's wrist, explaining how I had missed it earlier.

Magic? Check, I thought.

I fought every instinct to leap out there; instead, I slid a hand to my baton and slipped it forward, training the camera on the elevator as I hit the video recording function.

The figure in the elevator remained aloof, however, choosing to stay inside the confines of the space. "Until you complete your task to my satisfaction, you will not be released. Nor will your fiancé."

My masked eyes shot wide. That explains Alya's motivations. Especially if somehow Nino is in danger, too.

"Your excellency," she was saying desperately, "it's exceedingly difficult to turn Paris against them. You saw how they handled the photos! If anything, they are held in better standing now than before!"

"There will be another opportunity this evening. You'll receive the text at the appropriate time. Be ready."

"What sort of opp—"

She screamed again.

"You forget your place. No questions," the voice said as the doors to the elevator slid shut.

I barely waited for the indicator to go out before throwing the tarp off and leaping to Alya's side. She was curled into a fetal position, shaking and whimpering.

"I've got you," I said as I held her. "And I'll get you out someplace safe—"

"No!" Alya said harshly through gritted teeth. "She… can track… me."

My feline eyes went to her wrist. "All right. Home, then?"

She nodded. "I'll be fine… in a few minutes," she breathed. "I'm over… the worst of… it."

I smiled grimly as I hugged her. "Yes, I think you are."